Tup's Story
by KidatHeart5
Summary: This is Tup's origin story about how he got his signature hairstyle and tear tattoo.
1. Chapter 1

_Clones never cry._

That was one of the many rules I learned as a clone cadet while training on Kamino. Before I was deployed to Umbara, I didn't even have a name. I was just a clone designated CT-5385. But even though every clone is made from the same DNA, we were all unique. I hadn't discovered my special feature, what made me stand out from the rest of my brothers. I would find it on one fateful day.

I was training with my squad to be in the 501st Legion. Dogma was there, taking orders and relaying them to my squadron and me. "All right, men!" he shouted. "Incoming fire!" At that call, the men and I had to initiate a commando roll and shoot at the enemy (mainly battle droids). I almost tumbled when I rolled, but I managed to get into position, took aim, and fired at the droids.

When our exercise ended, we retired to the barracks. As we were walking down there, Dogma spoke to me, "CT-5385, your commando roll was a little off. Are you sure you're 501st material?" "Dogma," I told him, "you may be good at giving orders, but I still I have to find out what makes me stand out." It was true; the clones on my squad and I didn't receive our tattoos yet…if we wanted them. We knew that our squad would get to choose what kind of tattoos we wanted when we got to Coruscant.

Truth be told, I was a bit nervous about our trip to Coruscant the next day. We were going to be sent to a secret facility where our training would be brought to the next level. It was for clones in the 501st only and I was lucky to be part of it. A lot of the clones, however, didn't think I was cut out for it. True, I had my cautious nature and my sentiment, but I learned a lot about training and I've proven to be one of the best in my unit. I would have the chance to be that good soldier when we arrived at Coruscant.

Up until then, everyone had already given me a nickname: Bun Hair. Yes, I had already put my hair up in a bun. I was determined to prove that I was not just another clone in my unit. I had watched recordings of Jedi and was inspired by the way they made themselves different from each other. I decided to follow the steps of one Jedi and grew my hair out and put in a bun.

But shortly after I created my signature hairstyle, many clones made fun of me and told me how I was too girlish to be even out on the battlefield. I was deeply upset by this and kept my emotions to myself. That was when I went to speak with Jedi Master Shaak Ti. She was speaking to Bric and El-les when I came in. "General?" I spoke softly. "May I speak with you?" "What do you want with her, Bun Hair?" Bric asked rudely.

I looked to the side, but Shaak Ti sensed my insecurity and hurt and asked me, "Is there something bothering you?" I slowly answered in fear of angering my supervisors, "It's just…I've been called 'Bun Hair' a lot by my brothers and now Bric. My brothers say that it makes me too girlish to be fighting battles and it…" I stopped in mid-sentence as my emotions came to a head. I continued to speak, "Well, it hurts my feelings. I don't like it."

El-les suggested, "Why don't you tell them to stop? Don't you have a name?" I told him, "That's just it, sir. I don't have a name. I haven't come up with it yet. I was hoping I would find inspiration, but…" I closed my eyes as I said, "I guess I would be 'Bun Hair' for the rest of my life." I was so hurt and saddened at the very idea, I was amazed to find that tears were filling my eyes.

Bric put his hand on my shoulder and ordered, "Hey, don't cry on me now! Clones never cry. Didn't you learn that when you were a cadet?" I blinked away my tears because I knew clones never let emotion get the better of them. I also knew that when Bric told me not to cry, he meant in a meaningful way that didn't even sound like it. Bric liked being abrasive to the clones, but secretly, he cared about them enough to know what was best for them.

Shaak Ti said, "You are just beginning to form an identity of your own. Perhaps you will find it in time. Remember, when you know who you truly are, you will find your place among your unit." I smiled, "Thank you, General."

My hairstyle was just one step in achieving my one true identity, but I still had to find the one thing that sets me apart from my brothers: my special feature.


	2. Chapter 2

I was still being called "Bun Hair" when we arrived at Coruscant. By that time, I was less bothered by that nickname. However, it was still a reminder that I haven't found my special feature. It still hurt, but it didn't hurt too much. I was convinced that my special training with the rest of my unit would help me find my special feature.

We arrived at the secret facility and we were all excited to be there. We were going to be part of one of the most elite squadrons in the entire army. We were going to be led into battle by none other than General Skywalker! The day we were going to be deployed into battle would be the proudest day of our lives…as of yet. For me, though, the day I arrived there would be one of the most pivotal moments of my life. The day that defined who I was.

We all marched in, line after line, until we got to a big assembly room. We stood about face as a tall, lean man wearing a long, white robe with red trim entered with two Senate guards. "Men," he projected an illustrious voice so he could be heard across the room, "you are here today because you have proven to be the top of your class. That is something you should be honored by. Not just any clone can be in the 501st. No; they have to be extraordinary, quick, decisive, and brave enough to be part of this elite squadron. Gentlemen, it is my honor that I…"

Suddenly, we heard alarms going off. For a minute, I thought Coruscant was under attack. I heard one of the Senate guards tell the man, "Sir, we have several medical frigates coming in! Should they be given permission to land?" "Is it a serious matter?" the man asked. The Senate guard replied, "There are many clones and civilians on board with a dangerous brain plague. They're dying very quickly."

The man nodded hastily, "Yes, yes! Quarantine them and heal them as quickly as possible!" He turned to us and said, "I regret leaving you so soon, but there are lives that require saving. Perhaps some of the training medics in this unit would like to come to the medical bay?" I knew I wasn't going to be a medic, but as soon as I saw them leave with the man and the guards, I felt a twinge of envy. However, these past few moments made me realize how far I would be from ready to go into battle. That would be confirmed later that night.

After eating at the mess hall, I decided to check up on the sick clones and civilians. I have to admit that I also wanted to see my brothers in action as medics. As I walked down the corridor, I thought about how lucky these clones were to have a taste of action so early. I was a bit excited, but also scared at the same time. What if I would be too scarred to go on the battlefield just by seeing the patients? I knew that clones would never cower out of a dangerous situation.

I was determined to prove that I was more than girly "Bun Hair". I wanted a name, and I knew the only way to get that was to face the dangers ahead.

I had absolutely no idea about what I was going to see in the medical bay. By the time I got there, nurses and orderlies were rushing in and out of the quarantined medical bay. I decided to ask a female orderly who wasn't in a rush, "Hey, what's going on in there?" She answered in a calm but saddened voice, "There has been a brain plague in the Weemell sector. Clone troopers and human civilians alike have been infected. Several captains are saying that General Grievous unleashed it."

_Grievous._ I had known that name since I was a cadet and it still unnerved me. I knew what he was capable of. He was the Supreme Commander of the Droid Armies and although my brothers disregarded him as the "head clanker", I knew that if Grievous had heard them call him that, he would have killed them in seconds. It sometimes felt like I was the only clone who truly knew how dangerous he was. I would hate to face him on the battlefield. Now, he has done a monstrous act by unleashing a brain disease on a sector and infecting not just Republic armies, but innocent men, women, and children, too.

I thanked the orderly for informing me, but I still couldn't believe such a thing like that happened. I walked over to the viewing window and what I saw was unsettling. Many of my brothers, most of whom I hardly knew, and the civilians were thrashing, moaning, or breathing laboriously on their beds. They were all suffering from the brain plague General Grievous unleashed upon them. I felt angered that he would do such a thing as this. I also felt hopeful anticipation as I watched doctors and nurses doing to the best they could to save lives. But most of all, I felt deep sorrow as I watched those who were infected die despite attempts to save them.

I felt a mix of all these emotions at the same time. This was the first time in my life that I have felt something like this. They were all soon overshadowed by one feeling: helplessness. I feared that something like the brain plague would seal my fate before I had the chance to prove myself. These emotions were not something I felt could be contained. Even though I remembered the "clones never cry" rule, I knew I had to get away from this scene that was getting to be too much too bear.

I walked calmly so I couldn't alarm anyone around me about my inner turmoil. As soon as I reached a clear area, I ran as fast as I could until I found an empty room. I closed the door behind me as I still continued to struggle with these feelings of pain and sorrow. I repeated to myself, "Clones never cry. Clones never cry." However, I regained whatever control I had left of my emotions.

As my sight adjusted, I found several discs lying on a small table. I picked one of them up and examined the writing on it. My heart skipped a beat when I realized it said "General Grievous Newsreel Recordings". I looked around for a projector in which to put the disc in so I could view it. I must admit my curiosity got the better of me. I eventually found a hologram projector and slid the disc in carefully.

I activated the projector and a screen with words appeared. "Another crippling blow for the Republic," a voice accompanied the displayed words, "as General Grievous strikes against Ord Mantell. He waged battle there recently and inflicted terrible damage to a town by massacring the citizens as a distraction for a means to escape." As the voice continued to speak, recordings of the raze appeared. I was shocked by this terrible act of evil.

My blood ran cold as the image of General Grievous was displayed. I remembered when he and Lieutenant Ventress attacked my home of Tipoca City in an attempt to stop clone production. My brothers and I were caught in the assault and could do nothing but hide. Thankfully, the Jedi and my brothers-in-arms drove the Separatist from Kamino. I and many other clones would never forget that experience and how close we came to losing our home.

Now, this monster has devastated many lives by killing them cold-heartedly. I found myself swearing to avenge those who were affected by such an atrocity. I felt as if my brothers and I needed to right the wrongs done by beings such as Grievous. Suddenly, a pain shot through my chest. It wasn't like a physical pain. I knew that it was my heart breaking for the tragedy of these innocent people.

I just couldn't bear to see any more of the loss and destruction that was caught on the recording. I stopped the hologram and leaned against the projector. I placed my hand on my chest as I tried to soothe the pounding ache. I found myself shaking as I thought, _Why would anyone do something like this? Why cause millions of people so much grief and suffering? Why must there be so much death in war before victory can be decided?_

I closed my eyes and slowly crouched to the floor with my right arm still gripping the projector. I turned my head towards the rim until my forehead and it touched. I could barely even tolerate these overwhelming feelings within me. I tried to calm myself down so I wouldn't break down. Surprisingly, when I opened my eyes, my vision was misty. I couldn't believe how close I was to crying, so I tried to blink away the tears.

Though I succeeded in making my sight clear again, I felt a wetness under my right eye. I put my left hand to where I felt it and brushed my fingers against it. I was stunned to find a drop of a liquid from where I felt the wetness and I immediately knew what it was: a tear. Even though I was familiar with tears, this was entirely new to me. This particular tear came from me, or at least a part of me I have tried to hide for so long. This tear showed me that I was different from any of my other brothers.

All of a sudden, I found another purpose my tear had done for me: it gave me my special feature. This was what set me apart from the rest of the clones. From that moment, I believed that tears were not a symbol of weakness, but of strength created from emotions such as compassion and care. I would have a lot to learn from battle, but as long as I didn't deny my true feelings, I would come through this war. Now I needed a name.

I knew that my tear would help me create an identity for myself. I couldn't just name myself "Tear"; it would sound worse than "Bun Hair". Then, I considered how the tear on my finger was shaped so similarly like the bun in my hair. As I pondered, I thought the bun in my hair was shaped like a teardrop. A teardrop…

I mixed different syllables of the word in my head until I found the perfect name for myself.

When the opportunity came, my brothers and I decided our tattoos and painted a similar design on our armor. After putting on my newly-painted armor, I walked with a newfound pride and confidence. My brothers did find my design odd, however. They said amongst themselves, "Look at Bun Hair! That's a strange design for a clone to put on his armor and as a tattoo." One of them approached me and teased, "Hey, Bun Hair! Did you decide to use a teardrop because you were feeling sad?"

I only smirked at him and replied, "I was, but I'm happy now because I have a new name. From now on, call me Tup."


End file.
